


The Talk

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wee/teen!winchesters<br/>Sammy finds magazines under Dean's bed. John has a talk with Dean about them.<br/>Written 2008</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

Dean should have known it was coming. Sammy had gotten into his stuff the week before. Of course there was no keeping that kid out of anything. Dean loved his little brother sure, “protect your brother before all else”, “look after him, son”, and forcing the kid to eat and train and watch TV like a well adjusted child was basically his job. He didn’t mind it; Dean figured he made a good protector. Except that he couldn’t protect his own stuff. He should have never taught Sam to pick locks.

Dad had a game face on. He was smiling, warm but Dean could see it in his eyes they were going to talk about something. Sammy was busy doing homework on the floor. Dean never bothered to help Sammy with school. Sammy didn’t need it. Jared was going to be a highschooler and couldn’t remember what they’d taught him about algebra two weeks ago. Besides what was an education anyways? Dean figured with what he knew he already had a job. He would be just like dad when he grew up. He’d learned well. Sammy excelled at school, as a way to distance himself from is crazy family. Sammy wanted to go away. Dean knew it wasn’t personal. Sammy cried like a kid when pressured and Dean understood that their family was a little too weird for his younger brother. Sammy wanted to be “normal”. Dean thought normal sounded pretty good, but gave it up as a lost cause. He’d rather be prepared than normal, any day. And preparedness came in handy when you wanted to jack the candy machines on the second floor, or convince the guidance councilor that you were fine and she really didn’t need to speak to your parent about the stolen gummy worms in your pocket.

 

Dean helped Dad clean his gun. The simple movements of taking it apart, giving the parts a once over, and pulling out the rag, were second nature. When his dad wanted to talk there was always something else to do. Dad believed in productiveness like he believed in preparedness.  
“So Dean,” there was the opening, Dad leaning back in his chair, big hands doing his own work over the weapons trunk. Dean thought he might one day be as big as dad. He’d start growing soon he was sure. He was still taller than Sammy. Dean wanted to be big like dad, to be imposing so that people responded to him “yes sir.” and obeyed him. They always did that to his father.  
“Sammy says he found a magazine under your bed.” Dean bites his lip. Folds his hands in his lap and looks up at his father, very polite, like he’s been taught.  
“No way you’re conning me out of this talk boy.” Dad chuckles. Dean sighs, tries to relax, be prepared.  
“Yes sir.” Dean says and his father smiles. Dean fiddles with his hands in want of something to do, but Dad is packing up the bag to stick back in the trunk of the Impala. Clearly this will be an important conversation. Dean glances around, but Sammy’s gone, probably off to his room to read a text book.  
“This magazine Sammy found. He told me about it because there were naked people in it.” Dean shrugged, yeah so? He was the eldest wasn’t he? He knew people in high school. Living on the road like they did, he wasn’t blind. Dean knew better than to say any of that.  
“Sammy says there were pictures of naked men in there.” Dean blinks. So that’s what this is.  
“Yes sir.”  
“Want to tell me about that?” Dad’s face is calm. Dean wants to laugh; he’s going to get off so easy. Dad’s just laying it open for him.  
“Sure. They’re a gag gift.” Dean shrugs, “cause I’m always beating up the older guys who go after pipsqueaks. Dunno defending every ‘faggot’ at school makes you an odd sort of hero.” Dean knows his grin is cocky, but it’s true. He’s got a reputation for scaring off guys bigger than he is. He’s had it since just after they got there and somebody tried to steal Sammy’s lunch money. Dean is the best older brother ever.

Dad is relaxed, Dean can see the release of tension in his shoulders in the way the man smiles and claps Dean on the back, “You shouldn’t use that word Dean, but I’m proud of you. Just try not to get in trouble so much.” Dean shrugs off his father’s hand, moves to leave; he’s got his own homework to do.  
“Dean,” Dad calls out, still leaning back in his chair, big hands twirling his wedding ring around a thick finger, “just know…if you wanna marry a boy, or you wanna marry a girl,” Dean shakes his head but Dad continues over him “or later, you don’t know now, but whatever you decide it’s okay with me. Just…” Dad seems at a loss for words. Dean can see him groping for the right thing to say. Wants to tell him just to forget it because it’s awkward enough already. Dad finishes with a gruff, “take care of your brother,” falling back on routine. Dean can do that. He nods, “Yes sir.” and hurries down the hall to his room. He’ll have to find a better way to hide things.


End file.
